


Spectrum

by Dorks_Trifecta



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Eventual Wholesome Polyamory, Multi, Multiple Warriors of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Relationship tags to be added as they appear in the story, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorks_Trifecta/pseuds/Dorks_Trifecta
Summary: Spectrum: a band of colors, as seen in a rainbow, produced by separation of the components of light by their different degrees of refraction according to wavelength.We are fools, each of us. Fallen in a world familiar and alien at once, three once unimportant individuals find their fate bound inextricably with that of a great hero. By the side of friends old and new, it's time to step up to the plate. There's a lot of work to do.
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue: Refraction

_Aaron fights, but he knows not why. He doesn’t know who these men he cuts down are, only that they are his enemies. He doesn’t know who these men alongside whom he fights are, only that they are his allies._

_He runs forward and his axe gouges a trail in the ground. He spins on himself and the momentum carries his weapon in a deadly arc, three armored soldiers in its path, dead in one strike. He loses no time thinking, for there is no need; the battle carries him as his returning strike smashes two more enemies against the ground hard enough to bounce._

_He catches a sword with the metal haft of his weapon, then pushes hard enough to send it flying from the soldier’s hand, the blade of the axe bites deep in the flesh of the unarmed enemy and he has a second to himself._

_He lifts his helmet’s visor and looks up. He doesn’t know why the moon is falling, but he is not surprised. He does know, he realises, he just can’t remember._

_He feels pain flare in his left eye, and the warmth of blood through the glove on the hand he brings there. He falls to his knees in pain, for he has been shot, his helmet has shattered, and there is something in the wound._

_Aaron can’t see, but he feels the aether change around him. He knows its familiarity and safety, but he cannot say why._

_A small hand touches his face and the pain fades away, he can see again, and yet he can’t see the one who healed him, they are hidden by a light shining behind them. He nods in thanks and moves to the frontline again._

_There are others like them. Someone shoots arrows from behind him. Another prepares a spell. The last one runs beside him, sword ready, shield raised. Enemies fall before him, laid low by the archer and dead where they stand. The swordsman and he carve a path forward, to a nightmarish machine that is itself suddenly engulfed by merciless flames._

_He cannot remember them, who they are. And yet he knows them, for they are his comrades, and he trusts them._

_That’s when the moon shatters and_ it _comes out. Aaron can do nothing, but watch as the god freed from the moon awakes from its slumber to rain death and destruction upon the battlefield, and the realm with it._

_He’s going to die, he thinks, and it upsets him. Those unknown companions are going to die, and that upsets him even more._

_They are saved, a great magic shield protects them from the raging hellfire outside, and he knows they shall not fall this day. He turns around, and he sees the Elezen, old and familiar and powerful._

_The shield breaks, but not for very long. He watches as the mage struggles, he sees the barrier reform and break again, and for the moment the onslaught ceases_

_Aaron sees the Wyrm, image of power, roaring at them, at him. This is not over. Pillars of Light rise in the distance, all around the realm, they strike back, the pillars become a new prison._

_The terrible God shatters it before it can take shape. They have lost, they have failed. But this is not over._

_A spell engulfs him and he looks at his hands. All he sees are shadows before a light, the same light that hides his companions from his eyes._

_And he knows, this is not over._

**Spectrum**

The soul floated in a sea of stars and wondered what this was. It felt so much like a dream, yet in the depths of its being, the soul knew this to be reality.

Rebirth, the soul thought, or a new beginning at the very least, though it knew not where that thought came from. The soul accepted it, perhaps it came a bit more easily than it should have, but what would come of denying what was happening? It accepted.

A silhouette came into existence before the soul’s vision, a smooth body that showed no characteristic, like a blank canvas.

The soul reached to it and the body’s arm reached back. Its body, the realisation came easily. This was a new beginning, and this was its new body, to make as it desired.

A woman, the soul decided. Sex had never mattered before, that trivial thing; it was its own person and that was enough, but it had been a man for nineteen long years. And it was curious. It would be a woman.

Idle images floated in the soul’s thoughts. Long elfin ears, cute little hands, feline fangs and tail, reptilian horns and scales, powerful frame, soft lapine ears, thick fur, and familiar comfort. This and more came and went.

It had always held a fascination for scales, and so it grasped that image. The silhouette changed. The soul’s body flowed into a petite frame. A tail grew from the base of its spine, and horns crowned the sides of its head.

She recognised it, she realised with delight. Yes, an Au Ra would please her greatly.

The first adjustment came easily. She had been tall before, and while she knew she could hardly be as tall now, she still willed her body to become as tall as it could. She only felt herself grow a couple of inches, but it was already that.

She brought her hands to her chest and noticed how it felt in her balance. Too big would make it awkward to walk, she realised, but… She liked the idea of noticeable curves, not too big, not too small. She saw herself blush a little as she gently prodded her chest to grow until the point that felt and looked just right. Just barely more than she could hold in her dainty hands.

Her focus shifted to the rest of her body, and as it did, her skin darkened until she bore the slightest hints of a tan. Her tail grew to comfortably fit her balance, the unfamiliar white limb swishing left and right at her calves, air rustling between the four soft spines of the thagomizer at the end.

Her hair came easily, she’d kept it long even before, and the silken strands settled into long flowing locks, swept into an intricate braid she’d never have managed by herself, before it faded into a light pink she liked a lot, complemented by darker, red highlights.

Her face was just as easy: fuschia eyes stared back at her, with a clearer limbal ring on the right, in a heart shaped face with scales on the cheeks and between the eyebrows. She poked experimentally at the horns replacing her ears now, fingers running along the slight curve to the point facing behind her. She could get used to that, she thought with a smile that stretched her thin, pink lips.

She stepped back, so to speak, and admired her work of the past minutes, her eyes lingering with delight on the scales over her skin. Yes, she could definitely get used to it.

She felt ready, ready for whatever was to come.

And yet… an indelible something was missing. Something important. She couldn’t see what it was, but then it hit her. She needed a name. She was not who she’d been before, and it felt…

Important. It felt important to have a new name.

Raen names followed a custom, she knew, even if she didn’t know how she held the knowledge of that custom.

A few ideas came to mind, most put aside and discarded, until one brought a smile to her new face. As soon as she chose her name, she felt herself fill her new body. And begin to fall.

Tsukuyomi no Mikoto was ready for what was to come.

“Hear...Feel...Think.”

**Spectrum**

“EVIL BREAD, GET AWAY!” Giant Storm yelled as she jolted into wakefulness, falling out of her seat in a tangle of flailing limbs.

She fumbled for a moment, doing her level best to remember where she was as the floor beneath her creaked and shifted with the waves. Right. A ship. She was on a ship, bound for Limsa Lominsa.

She was not unaware of the other passengers looking at her oddly, a myriad of eyebrows raised and laughs hidden.

“What!? Never seen a woman wake up from a nightmare about murderous sourdough?” The Roegadyn snapped, brushing her dreadlocked hair out of her face as she hauled herself back onto the bench. Most of her fellow passengers flinched back, though a brave few souls kept staring.

Sighing, she settled back against her bag, drifting back into her dreams.

At least, until the pirates attacked.

**Spectrum**

“Lass, you feeling alright?” This was the first thing she heard as an older looking man shook her awake. Not being quite lucid yet, paired with not knowing who the man was or where they were, resulted in her doing the logical thing and bolting up from her seat, hitting her head on the cart’s frame.

Clutching her head at the sudden pain, two things became apparent. For one, she was taller than she remembered. Two, since when were her ears on top of her head?

The combination of ache to the head and apparent physical changes woke her up fully, and a quick glance at her surroundings revealed a trio of familiar faces.

"Well fuck. I'm in Eorzea."  
  
Of course, the natural progression of things was for an arrow to whizz past her head and lodge itself into the wood of the cart _._

Of _course._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Owl: Well, here we are. A project over a year in the making between the three of us. Here's to a long journey. This train has no brakes because we've replaced them with nitro boosters.
> 
> Wombat: We have no destination, we have no brakes, we're going to ride this motherfucker until we run out of tracks and the wheels fly off.
> 
> Fox: Joking aside this started as me madly rambling about 14 on Discord, I never expected it to get here.
> 
> Wombat: In the words of a great man: please enjoy.


	2. Heroes of our Time

A short pursuit later, and they managed to escape a small skirmish between the Ixals and the Gridanian forces without harm. Quite an achievement, given the young suddenly-a-Viera had almost fallen off the cart when it took off before she could finish rebooting and didn't think to sit back down. After a moment to settle down properly, the old man in the cart alongside her properly introduced himself as Bremondt. But when asked for her own name, she found herself without any satisfying answer to offer.

“I’ll just be honest, any name I had doesn't matter anymore. Hell, I don't even know how I got on this cart! Last thing I remember doing was going to sleep…. Not here, had a dream, and now I’m here. I guess I got Spirited Away.” 

Looking back at Bremondt, the now-a-Viera spoke up once again. “I’ll have to ask you to indulge me, but what's the recent history look like here? I’ve heard rumors, but you can never trust those.”

“Well lass, that depends on what yer definition o' recent is. Though wagering a guess, I’m assuming ye mean since the Calamity, even in yer jungles ye should 'ave 'eard of that part.” She nodded. “Aye, not much to write home about. E'ryone had to lick their wounds after Carteneau, but with the Garleans busy with that civil war o' theirs, we got a bit o' a breather and the Cities 'ave been doing what they can to re-build. Big opportunity fer men o' my trade, you'd think, but roads 'ave been dangerous since 'at big dragon rained death an' bloody brimstone on e'ryone's 'eads.

“Yer askin' me, last year's when we started gettin' somethin' 'ad anything what resembles peace if ye squint 'ard enough, an' me eyes are plenty good at squintin',” the man confided with a hearty laugh and good humor. "Aye, ye chose a good moment to leave yer jungle an' come to Eorzea, 'venturer. So what brings ye to this neck o’ the woods, if I ain’t too indiscreet?" 

“Well, as a more serious answer, it’s to make a difference,” she said in response. “Sure, there might be money or fame involved. But what does it mean if you aren’t doing all you can to make a difference for others, improve their life a little.”

Bremondt laughed softly. “Is that so. That sounds like yer tryin’ to follow in the Warriors o’ Lights footsteps, it does. Ye coulda done that difference as a soldier, but if yer a ‘venturer with that motivation, then yer gonna try an’ be a hero, aren’t ye? Realm could always do wit’ some more o’ these around since ‘em crazy Warriors poofed away in the aether.”

The woke-up-as-a-Viera nodded her along. “You’re right, I could have as a soldier, but then you get stuck in bureaucratic hell.” Both of them shared a shudder at that thought. “As an adventurer, you get a lot of room to make your own decisions, even if you still have to keep to the law. Just less red tape as a whole.”

“Less support too,” Bremondt pointed out with a smile, “but me trade’s peddlin’, not ‘venturin’, so what do I know? Maybe yer strong enough it don’t matter one drop. 

Ye ain’t the first to talk ‘bout politics an’ all too. Gridania ain’t nothin’ as bad as Ul’Dah, but every place’s got its issues. But we’re almost there, ye’ll see the place by yerself. First time, right?”

“Not technically?” The wasn’t-always-a-Viera hedged. ”Though I have a feeling it won't quite be the same as I remember. But that means I get to fall in love with Gridania all over again.”

Bremondt raised an eyebrow before laughing again. “Right, me bad. I thought ye were a bit young t ‘ave come ‘fore the Calamity, but ‘en I remembered ye vieras don’t get old like we hyurs do. An’ ‘at explain why ya ain’t used the Aetheryte like some ‘venturers do, they ‘ad to move it for some aether mojo or ‘nother I don’t understand. Ye’ll see, city’s livelier ‘an ever, but ye’ll prefer seein’ it with yer own two eyes, I’d wager. ‘Venturers gonna ‘venture, ain’t they?” He finished with a flourish of his arm as the carriage took one last turn on the road and Gridania became visible between the great trees.

Despite having an idea what to expect, the full view left the newly-minted-Viera speechless as she watched the city state of Gridania draw closer. The sheer _size_ alone dwarfed what she remembered from the game, but it was still so clearly _Gridania_ that she couldn't help but smile. For all the obvious differences, it still seemed like nothing had changed at all. With a mad grin on her face she lets out a laugh. 

“It’s just as beautiful as the first time I saw it,” she whispered with awe. “Thank you. Uh, for bringing me here, and indulging me with some conversation.”

Bremondt waved a hand in front of his face. “Think nothin’ of it, lass, I ’ad times and ‘em two sleepy’eads over ‘ere weren’t going to give me much o’ a talk. Anyroad, if ye want, ye can step down ‘ere, gate’s only a malm away an’ I’ll ‘ave to stop fer a while, get me goods checked an’ me permits seen so ye’d get in faster ‘an me cart.”  
  
With a smile, the Viera moved to step off the cart on wobbling legs, barely managing to stay upright with the heels of her shoes. Apparently, racial gear came included.

“Thanks for the ride. And careful with the girl, she’s as likely to stab you as she is to sass you.”

Bremondt lifted an eyebrow before steering his Carriage back onto the road. “I’ll keep ‘at in mind. Ye’ll ‘ave to tell me ‘bout yer ‘ventures next time we meet and I’ll pour us a drink, alright?”

“Stay safe so you can keep that promise then, don't need you getting kidnapped by some mad beast tribe!” She called back with a hearty laugh, before stumbling again on her already forgotten heels. It was going to be a long walk to Gridania. But she would be grinning the whole way. She took another step, and stumbled once more.

… _maybe_ she’d be grinning the whole way.

Damned heels.

  
  
  


She was wrong. She was _so_ wrong. It wasn’t enough that she was still dealing with _her_ brand new body, with new proportions, a new stride, new center of gravity, _everything_ . No, there was the _fucking_ heels to top it off. Why any race would default to heels when their shtick was tree dwelling warrior women, she had no idea. Like, come on! Heels didn't make standing on trees easier, and she demonstrated that it was quite literally the _opposite_ , as an enormous tree root tripped her as she tried to walk over it.

It had something to do with weird foot structure, if she remembered correctly? That was about the only reason she hadn't just taken them off at this point. She’d have to check later. At least the scenery was calming, lots of good memories in Yellowstone. Which she would likely never get to see again, like many other things. 

“Fuck,” she muttered in realisation, “I’m already getting stuck in my head. That is _not_ good.”

A rustle echoed in the forest, quickly followed by several soft snaps before a bush shook and someone stumbled out, covered in snapped twigs and leaves. “Gods be good, I need to stop trying to find shortcuts,” the new arrival hummed, hands brushing off the vegetation stuck in his clothes and… Hair. Wait a minute, was that…

The Viera just stared for a moment, trying to register the reality of the situation, before letting out a defeated sigh. “I guess I should have expected this after seeing the twins, but I'm still shocked. The Derplander, walking out of a bush!”

The Hyur blinked owlishly at her for a second at her exclamation before offering her a charming smile. “Oh. Good day, milady, forgive my manners, I did not think to encounter civilised company so quickly! My name is Aaron, of no family, on the road to Gridania,” he introduced himself, offering a hand to her.

She took hold of it without reservations. She could _almost_ feel a connection with this Aaron, simply from the man being the apparent physical manifestation of the story of one of her favorite games. Even if most of it hadn't happened yet. 

“The pleasure is mine Aaron, though you have me at a disadvantage. Due to personal reasons I don't have a name to go by myself. Though we are at least heading the same way. Would you be willing to keep me company? You probably have some great stories.” Be safe, do what she could to confirm it was really the Warrior of Light. And if not… well, at least she had a traveling companion to keep her mind off things she didn’t want to think about. Wait, now she was thinking about them again, _damn it_.

The smaller man bowed to kiss the back of her hand, the gesture staying respectful. “It would be a joyous prospect, milady. Alas I fear I have but little stories to tell, for my memory fails me, but for the recollection of a great battlefield whereupon which I was defeated, and my path upon waking in these woods not one bell ago,” he lamented.

This kind of interaction would take some getting used to, but at least he was civil. And at the same time, this was beyond any doubt the Warrior of Light, straight from the battle of Carteneau. That gave her a few options: stick with him and make a difference at increased risk to her life, or go on her own way to try and make a difference in a safer way.

Obviously, she chose option one: the best place to make a change was at the heart of the issue! “I wouldn't say you were defeated given the circumstances. And I’m fairly certain that once we get into town we will hear stories of you there.”

Aaron frowned thoughtfully, confusion furrowing his brow. “I hardly think I would be a man of any renown, milady, you must confuse me with another. I may have been a fighter of some worth, but I doubt it would be enough to give me the manner of fame one would need to be recognised as you thought to recognise me. But mayhap such matters shall be more pleasant to discuss as we walk, milady. If you, ah, know the direction in which we must take this road?”

She pointed the way she had been walking. “Just further up that way.” 

His eyes visibly lit up. “Aha! So the city lies in this direction and not the one I was heading. I must thank you for appearing before me, I fear I’d have wandered until at least the morrow hence I found my destination had I not quite literally stumbled upon your encounter.”

“I had the good fortune of a landmark to start at and someone to point me in the right direction. It helps a lot. Though if I had to hazard a guess, you would have ended up in Gridania sooner rather than later,” she said with a laugh. “Some people are just prone to being in the right place at the right time, and given your meeting with me I’d say you’re one of them.”

That earned her a good-natured chuckle and the Hyur bowed his head with a flourish of the arm. “As you say, milady. After you?”

Rolling her eyes at the flourish, she took a step forward. And immediately ate the dirt on the ground. “Forgot I was in heels, and I’m going to blame you for that. Can I get help getting up?” She asked as she gestured him over.

“Certainly,” his voice said from a bit above her before a hand entered her field of vision, palm up. “Are you hurt?”

She reached up and grabbed his wrist. “Nah, I've had much worse than that. Though not for the same kind of distractions.”

“Distractions?” Aaron inquired. “Might you mayhaps suffer from some form of injury? I am no healer, certainly, but I am a deft hand at casting a limb and it’d be unconscionable of me to let a fair lady like you to suffer from the weakness of a healing wound.”

She struggled back to her footing and brushed herself off, grumbling slightly as she was reminded of her garb. “I’m no Lady, I can tell you that. That would suggest something resembling class. As to the injury question, I’ll get back to you when I know if it's still a proper issue. But for now, let's go with me being fine.”

The man’s hand almost instantly reached for her elbow, helping her stand upright. “Yet you are a lady, as any woman is compared to a simple wanderer the likes of me, milady,” he assured her, voice devoid of humor or trickery. “But lady or not, I shall insist that you let me ensure as to your full health. If you’ll forgive my boldness, I must ask that you allow me to inspect your feet.”

She sighed, considering. "If it'll convince you I'm fine. Though maybe it'll confirm something for me. Now let’s find a log or stump to sit on and get this other with. I feel like the universe wants me to get to Gridania late."

Her companion laughed. “The world has a way of conspiring against those in a hurry,” he agreed with good humor, as he helped her walk to a nearby root protruding from the ground and seat herself.

The man knelt in front of her and gently took hold of an ankle below the metal latticework covering her legs and carefully palpated her muscles and joints of the knee and ankle. Slowly, he started moving her leg to and from with a frown before bringing a hand to the ball of her foot and pushing _up_ to a more ordinary stance than what her heeled chausses allowed when standing before turning it around just as slowly. Apparently done, he repeated the process with the other leg with just as much care.

“You show no sign of pain, and there is no abnormal resistance to movement,” Aaron stated neutrally, “by all accounts, you have as good legs as it is possible to have. I see no reason for you to be troubled with your balance.”

Barely managing to keep a straight face, she nodded before she replied with a smile at a specific thing he had done. "I had a list of possible reasons. But you just removed the biggest one. Heels are a bitch. ” She declared with absolute conviction, now that she knew her feet _weren’t_ wired differently like they were for Vieras in some settings.

“But you’re wearing them.” Aaron remarked.

"More out of necessity than anything else. Though I'm tempted to go barefoot given the misunderstanding has been resolved." She kicked her shoes off, then stood up and stretched, enjoying having real balance again.

The hyur clicked his fingers and his face lit up with a smile. “Allow me an instant, please,” he asked before kneeling down and fiddling with something on his legs. A few seconds later and he too was standing barefoot, holding his boots to the Viera. “Here you go, they may be too large, but if you just tighten the straps, I doubt not that they shall fit you well enough.”

She waved him off with a flick of her wrist. “Pass, I think barefoot will be fine. Besides, it’s just forest ground without much debris. Which is actually pretty impressive, all things considered. But it's pretty soft, and I’ll try and figure something out later. Thanks, though.” She started trekking towards their shared destination again, a clear grin on her face. Things would certainly be interesting, that was for sure.

Aaron looked to his feet then the boots still in his hand before muttering something that sounded reasonably like “sod it” and following her without putting them back on, an easy grin on his face, quickly abandoning silence to hum along a vaguely familiar tune only he could hear.

The atmosphere stayed comfortably companionable as they made their way along the road, they didn’t talk more, but it didn’t feel needed, between the forest’s beauty, the tweeting of birds, chattering of unnaturally large squirrels and the gentle notes of Aaron’s wordless song, talk just didn’t feel needed until they finally came in sight of the city-state’s gates.

The Viera came to a stop, a grin still on her face. “I’ve always loved the forest but somehow, Gridania puts even my favorite to shame.” She gazed up into the sprawling canopy out over the lake from the shade projected by one of the boughs succeeding each other in front of the gate proper.

Her companion raised an eyebrow from his place on the ground as he put his boots back on his feet, smile still on his face. “Indeed, the mighty city-state lost within the sea of foliage of the Black Shroud holds a majesty no other woods quite manage to match.”

She nodded as she looked at the city, to the Roost hanging over the lip of the cliff and its turning waterwheels. The bar seemed relatively empty from here, though it wasn’t all that strange considering the time of day. She watched an airship come in as the yellow and green banners gently rustled in the breeze, listened to the distant murmur echoing from further into the city from the hustle and bustle of its denizens going about their lives within the almost-island in the shade of enormous trees.

Looking back over at her companion she smiled, though it was somewhat bittersweet. In front of this sight, she could hardly pretend this wasn’t real. Her imagination wasn’t good enough for the many little details reality had over the game.

Aaron bowed his head toward her and pointed at the airship landing. “Would you like to have a closer look?” He asked, though his tone betrayed his own excitement. 

She sighed before her smile turned more genuine. “Sure!”

Entering Gridania itself wasn’t a difficult thing. Even if the guards had been less than agreeable, they’d just let the two companions in with a warning not to cause trouble.

It didn’t take very long from there to reach the building at the entrance of the city, calm and almost empty at this time of day. Too late for lunch and too early for dinner, the inn only had a few patrons enjoying a mug and a bunch of adventurers and artisans coming and going from the Levemete’s counter.

“Ahoy, milady,” Aaron greeted the owner, “are you the Mother Miounne whom the city guard spoke of?”

“That would be me,” the Elezen confirmed with a nod, “and who may you two be?”

Aaron beamed. “Two wanderers seeking to be known as adventurers, milady. My nameless companion and I were told to seek your assistance in this matter, though I fear the suggestion was given in less polite terms.”

“Aaron, I don’t think you could put that any nicer,” she cut in. “He looked ready to rip my ears off.”

“Nonsense, my friend,” the hyur responded, “to do such he’d have needed to get past me and I am full confident the keepers of this city would have found his beating to be within our rights of defense.”

“If you were anyone else I would doubt that claim,” the viera said blankly as Mother Miounne chuckled, “but I think I’ve gotten you off topic.”

“Well you’ve certainly come to the right place,” the Elezen said. “If I could just have your names, we’ll see about registering you with the Adventurer’s Guild.”

“Aaron, of no family, lady Mioune. I thank you for your assistance.”

“It’s quite alright, Aaron.” Mother Mioune said before turning toward the Viera. “And what of you, milady?”  
  
The Viera looked away while scratching at her chin. “Lets just say that, due to personal circumstances, I’m nameless and have been trying and failing to think up a new one.”

“I understand it’s a hard thing to choose, you’re not the first of your kind to come here and it’s never easy for them” Mother Miounne said with a sympathetic smile. “A name is something we hear every day, after all. But I can’t register you without one.”

“Then how about Moko, like the grass?” Aaron suggested. “It’s not very imaginative, I must admit, but it is free of more inconvenient meanings.”

The Viera chuckled after a few seconds of silence. “I’ll be honest. For a moment, I thought you were naming me after a certain phoenix. But you’re right, it’s simple, but it's quite serviceable as a name.”

“So I take it I’ll be registering you as Moko of no family, then?” Mother Mioune asked.

“Yes. Thank you for giving us the time for this.”

“It’s no trouble, really. Now if I can make a recommendation, I’d suggest you go and acquaint yourselves with one of the combat guilds. It’s not safe to walk around without a weapon and training outside of the city’s walls.”

“Certainly, Mother Miounne. May your day be good and your kindness ever be rewarded.” Aaron said with a bow.

Then he turned toward Moko. “I believe you spoke of a phoenix?” He asked eagerly.

**Spectrum**

With a thud, Giant Storm set her flagon back down on the bar and wiped away the errant suds that clung to her face.

Her arrival in Limsa Lominsa had been smooth sailing after the ordeal with the pirates, and her induction into the Marauders Guild a treat. Now she sat back at the Drowning Wench, holding her own personal celebration to surviving her first day in an unfamiliarly familiar and _hostile_ world.

“So,” Baderon said, leaning across the bar next to her, another flagon in hand to replace her emptied one, “what d’you say to heading up to Summerford Farms on the morrow and gettin’ yerself a real try at the adventurin’ life?”

“Sounds positively boring, but after tonight I think a touch of boredom would suit me just fine,” she said, tossing the man another handful of gil. “How much’re inn rooms here, by the way?” Storm asked, her eyes following a young Miqo’te man as he danced and sang with a group of other patrons.

“Free fer adventurers like yerself, lass, just be mindful of who ye’ take to bed with ye’. Limsa Lominsa may be filled with former pirates, but some habits break harder than others.” The hyur said, his eyes sweeping across the room for a moment before he nodded to himself.

“Especially mind that ‘un over there, drinkin’ hisself silly with the pretty young Miqo’te lass.” He said, pointing to a young man about Storm’s age, dressed in a white and green tunic with a white and green bandanna tied over his hair.

“Who’s he supposed to be, the local ladykiller?” Storm said before taking a gulp from her flagon, the ale like ambrosia after her day.

“Somethin’ like that, aye, right fool he is…but anyroad, keep clear o’ him and his. They’ll lead you to nothin’ but trouble.” Baderon said with a shake of his head. “Go, be merry, your first night in Limsa Lominsa is something to celebrate after all.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice!” Storm said, taking hold of her flagon and sauntering toward the Miqo’te she’d been eyeing before.

Yes, Giant Storm would be making the most of her new lease on life and being _very_ merry tonight.

  
  


Storm grunted as she tossed another stone over the fence, and wiped at the sweat gathering on her brow. Summerford Farms felt like home to her, the foothills and distant burbling of the river reminding her of long walks through rolling fields and hikes through the foothills of her old home, in her old life.

Shaking off her introspection, she levered herself over the fence and off to help the next farmhand. The former pirates were crude at first, but with enough jabbing at their egos they set right to work.

“If you put as much effort into your work as you do blithering about your glory days then you’d not be in this situation now,” she’d said, her sleeves rolled up to her shoulders and a shovel in her hand.

That had set the first one to work, and word spread quickly among the other farmhands. From there the work had gone splendidly, and as she trekked up the hill back to Summerford itself to report on the day’s work, Storm gave herself a moment to admire the sunset. Tonight’s supper would taste especially good.

* * *

The next time she came to Summerford, Staelwyrn gave her equipment a once-over before nodding. She was well prepared for the day, the old Sea Wolf having told her she’d need to be prepared for battle. Atop her lilac braids sat a hardened leather helm, and in place of her normal cotton shirt lay armor crafted of bronze and hemp. A set of fingerless gloves covered her hands, and thick hempen pants tucked into a set of bronze-plated boots rounded out her outfit. With the great two-handed axe that lay slung across her back, Giant Storm looked prepared for war.

“Now, that aura of confidence you’re putting out tells me you’ve not been idle in the recent days. I hope I’ve read you right, for I’ve a task that requires the attention of a capable adventurer. Might that adventurer be you?” Staelwyrn said, holding one hand out as if for a handshake.

“Of course, my friend. You’ve helped me get on my feet since I’ve arrived here in Limsa Lominsa, so this is the least I could do to repay you.” Storm said, taking the Sea Wolf’s hand and giving it a firm shake.

“Good to hear, my friend. Now I’ll lay before you the sorry tale,” Staelwyrn said with a grin before he continued.

“You will have heard rumors of the abductions. Aye, citizens have been disappearing from every corner of Limsa Lominsa, as if plucked from the face of Hydaelyn, boots and all, by an unseen hand.” The former buccaneer started, explaining the situation to the young woman and the scrutiny and paranoia his yeomen were dealing with.

“Seasong Grotto, huh? I _think_ I know where that is…” Storm said to herself as she left summerford Farms, one hand scratching at her hairline under her helm.

And sure enough, she did eventually come upon the place, a pair of torches marking the entrance to the suspected hideout.

**Spectrum**

Mikoto stretched luxuriously as she stepped out of the Arcanist guild for the first time in two days. Arcanima was fascinating to study, if a bit complex to practice.

She’d needed Thubyrgeim’s assistance in learning how to manipulate the aether to conform with the arcane geometries in her mind before she’d managed to cast her first Magick: a simple Ruin spell that had felt like the greatest achievement of the day after finding how to move her tail to sit comfortably.

Honestly, she enjoyed the atmosphere in the guild. Bustling with life and activity on the upper floor where Malveean’s Gate was found, but quiet and welcoming on the underground floor where the practice of summons was held. To say nothing of the warm welcome the custom officers and practitioners of the art had given her as she studied in their midst.

Quite truthfully, she likely should not have stayed so long if she wished to be of assistance at Summerford Farms as she should have been, but Baderon told her he’d already sent someone there, and she’d needed to get accustomed to things before she entertained the thought of combat and hard labor anyway.

As it turned out, suddenly getting a proper depth perception and a full field of vision along with a different sense of balance meant that she’d overcompensated quite a bit for issues with her left eye, issues that didn’t exist anymore. Learning Physick had become something of a necessity after she’d fallen down the stairs or run into the doorframe one too many times.

She still found herself zoning out at the enhanced perception of sounds her horns gave her, or the feels of scales rubbing against the rough material of her clothes, and this was without mentioning the awkwardness of having to learn how to correctly adjust a bra, or getting used to the how her body _moved_ when she walked and…

Mikoto banished that train of thought, she honestly didn’t need to think about that right now. As novel and disconcerting as the whole experience still was, it wasn’t altogether uncomfortable, and she sorely needed to get out and do something with herself after staying cooped up inside for so long.

Better safe than sorry, though, so she opened her grimoire and started tracing the geometries of the magick her two days of studies had ultimately been for. Aether swirled around her as she worked, and she finished her cast with a flick of the wrist.

An absolutely _adorable_ emerald carbuncle popped into existence with the cutest “Kyuuun~”.

Mikoto knelt down to pet it. “Aww, who’sh an adowable widdle bunny-dog thing? You are, yesh you are!”

The magical construct beamed at the attention, leaning into the pets before scrambling up Mikoto’s arm to drape itself around her shoulders like a scarf.

“Kyuuun~” It said, butting its head affectionately against the Au Ra’s cheek.

Mikoto giggled in delight and scratched the carbuncle’s chin as she made her way past the ferry station toward the docks and the sea.

She didn’t intend to stay overlong, just a small walk to appease the strange feeling she should go there before going on a walk outside the city itself to see if the fields, like the city, were more than what the limitations of the medium had let through.

She passed by a few residents on their own morning walk, including a black Hrothgar with a scar at his throat who absolutely dwarfed her. He poked her carbuncle on the nose, then rubbed its head with a warm smile before going on his way with a wave.

It was nice here. For a city of former pirates that still lived up to its reputation as a hive of scum and villainy, Limsa Lominsa still managed to make a girl feel welcome, even when she’d yet to see a single Au Ra besides herself.

The smell of flowers made her slow down and she looked around to find a little girl with a basket full of white blooms. My, wasn’t that a sign?

Mikoto made her way to the little flower girl. “Hello there, how much for one of these?” She asked gently.

The child shook her head and smiled back. “It’s free, to celebrate the Maelstrom making that hole in the sea their training ground.” She explained and offered one of the blossoms to the Au Ra.

“Thank you, little friend.” Mikoto said as she took the flower before taking a dozen gil out of her mostly empty coin purse, “But it’s a celebration, so here, go and get yourself a treat too, yes?” She suggested with a wink.

“Thank you, miss!” The little hyur beamed before running in the other direction, waving behind her as she did.

Mikoto chuckled. Children were a treasure. But ah, if the flower girl was here, then that meant another delightful person was close.

Sure enough, it didn’t take her long to find a white haired Miqo’te sitting on a crate.

The Raen easily sat herself beside Y’shtola, getting the Scion’s attention.

“I know this is no wild rose, but would you care for a bloom in this day of festivities?” Mikoto asked in lieu of introduction, offering the flower she still held along with her best smile.

Y’shtola raised an amused eyebrow. “And who might you be?”

Mikoto laughed softly. “Right now, I’m a woman who knows more than she rightfully should. In a few days, I certainly hope I might be a friend. But to you, my name is Tsukuyomi no Mikoto, Mikoto Tsukuyomi by Eorzean tradition.”

“Kyuuun~!” Her summon called from around her shoulders, raising a paw toward the Miqo’te.

“Oh, and this little friend is my carbuncle, of course.”

Y’shtola smiled and raised a finger to scratch at the magical entity’s head, to its obvious delight. “Well it is certainly nice to make its acquaintance. You may call me Y’shtola. I take it you approached me with a reason in mind?”

Mikoto leaned back on the crate, resting her weight on her arms. “Do I truly need a reason to seek good company? Mayhaps I just saw someone whom I thought I’d like to get to know better? Though I did come with a suggestion of sort, if you’re interested.”

“Oh? Well I’m all ears, Mikoto. What manner of offer could you be thinking of?”

The Au Ra laughed. “Not so much an offer as a little shortcut, really. I simply thought you may wish to cast your gaze to the surroundings of Seasong Grotto with your fascinating device.”

The Scion raised an eyebrow but nevertheless did so. “There indeed seems to be a disturbance in the aether, though I must wonder how you came to know of such a thing.”

“I am a woman of many talents and secrets,” Mikoto answered playfully. “Though if I were to give a truthful answer that did not make my words seem unhinged, I would say I can thank _echoes_ of memories yet to pass. I thought to investigate the place myself, if you’d care to make a bit of path by a friendly side?”

Y’shtola remained silent for a moment, doubtless weighing the probabilities of this being a trap, or subterfuge of some sort, and Mikoto could hardly blame her. This was Limsa Lominsa, and the kidnappings had been going strong recently, so much that the rumors had reached her despite her relative isolation over the last two days.

“Very well, let us do some road together, then, Mikoto.” She finally decided.

The Au Ra smiled wide as she got up and twirled on a foot. “Let us be about it, Y’shtola.”

* * *

Walking from the docks to Seasong Grotto ended up taking a little over an hour, spent in companionable discussion of Aetheric theory and Arcanima Conjury’s applications thereof. The conversation suffered a little from the limitation of Mikoto’s own understanding of it all compared to Y’shtola’s, but the Miqo’te begrudged her little.

It honestly felt closer to a lesson for Mikoto, but she had no reason to complain. Not only was the subject absolutely fascinating, but Y’shtola was a good teacher, expressing the concepts in clear terms and answering her questions with little fuss.

Really, even the local monster population didn’t bother them enough to detract from the good mood. Beside a few curious looks from some Pugils as they passed over the Rogue river, the wildlife had been happy to ignore them until they reached their destination.

They walked between the torches and into the cavern.

There was already someone there, Mikoto noticed with mild surprise. A Hellsguard marauder in bronze armor, bearing an axe on her back as a few bogies finished fading back into the aether around her feet and she looked at the memorial.

Mikoto bit her lip and looked pleadingly at Y’shtola, nodding her head toward the engraved stone.

The Miqo’te smiled before walking into the grotto.

_“I am the waves that bear._

_I am the winds that guide._

_I am the evening stars_

_I am the morning sky_

_I am born of the sea_

_And there I shall die.”_

The Scion’s voice echoed beautifully through the cavern and Mikoto felt a shiver go down her spine, while her carbuncle squeaked happily on her shoulders.

**Spectrum**

Turning from where she had been puzzling over the unreadable inscription, Storm caught sight of a familiar face.

“A lovely bit of poetry. Is that what this bit says then?” She asked, one eyebrow cocked as she took in the sight of the beautiful Miqo’te woman.

“Indeed. A requiem for the sailors of Limsa Lominsa. To ward off misfortune at sea and guide the souls of those who died on land back to the waters. But I recognise you, you are the adventurer I saw availing herself around Summerford Farms these past two days.”

“Aye, that would be me. It’s honest work, and it feels good to help people with the strength of my back instead of my strength at arms.” Storm said, a small smile on her face.

“I am loathe to interrupt,” a voice called from the entrance of the grotto, “but I fear we have company.” A roar punctuated the words.

“Well then,” Storm said as she plucked her axe from its harness on back, “if you two wish to run now or perhaps lend a hand, I’d be most appreciative.”

As she finished speaking, a Goobbue came thundering into the grotto, the other woman with Y’shtola rushing ahead of it to avoid getting trampled.

She stopped next to Storm, pulling out a book as a blue fox bunny…thingy jumped off her shoulders. “I’m not the sort to leave one behind,” she said, “though I fear I shall have to ask for your protection in this fight, marauder.”

Y’shtola took hold of her wand and stepped to Storm’s other side. “Then leave the healing to me.”

“It’s not quite a full party, but this suits me just fine! Have at ye, you great mossy bastard!” Storm bellowed, throwing herself forward at the Goobbue in a dead sprint.

They crashed into each other with a bone-rattling impact, Storm’s shoulder colliding with the beast’s gut before she wound back and swung her axe into its side. The blade bit, only a few ilms in, the hard skin absorbing most of the force of the blow.

Pushing away from the beast, she swung again, a manic grin on her face as she channeled Wyrnzoen’s lessons on the Marauder’s rage. This time the blade cut deeper, wedging into the fatty meat of the monster.

It tried to roar at her, but only a strangled gurgle came out, noxious ichor oozing up from the back of its throat and making the flesh sizzle visibly wherever the foul substance touched it.

“Fuck that’s nasty!” Storm laughed as she yanked her blade from the wound and swung once more, a palpable aura of bloodthirst rolling off her body.

With a gurgling roar the Goobbue swung at the Roegadyn, broadsiding her and sending her tumbling ass over teakettle, but the ache in her ribs faded almost instantly with a shimmer of soothing green light.

Her weapon still lodged in the beast, she grabbed a small knife from her boot and bolted towards it. She grabbed the handle of her axe and with a heave, levered herself into the air where she plunged the dagger into its chest. Swinging with her gathered momentum, she heaved her axe out of the beast’s innards and plunged it into its neck.

It gurgled in pain, but didn’t die, too big and fat for the wound to be fatal, but it certainly _hurt_.

Something darted along the ground and the blue bunny-thing of the mage bounced up, surrounded by blue light as it lined up with the first wound Storm had made. Then a burst of wind erupted from its form and slammed into the open flesh, driving in and blood spurted abundantly, making the Goobue gurgle in agony as it spun and flailed its arms around in a frenzy.

With her feet planted firmly on the beast, Storm gave another mighty yank and pulled her weapons from the beast, tumbling back to the ground as it writhed in agony.

Throwing her knife to the ground, she held her axe in both hands and moved to swing with all the force of an avalanche, only for the beast’s flailing to send her flying once more.

A black sphere sailed through the air and impacted with one of the beast’s beady eyes, flaying the surface of the hard skin and popping the eye as Y’shtola magicked Storm’s wound away.

Then the Goobue roared clearly for the first time since the beginning of the fight and from outside the cave two roars echoed it, quickly followed by heavy steps as a pair of smaller Goobue came charging in to help.

“Oh isn’t this just keen,” Storm quite literally spat, a glob of blood hitting the ground as if to punctuate her displeasure.

“We’ll deal with those.” The horned lady assured, her magic pet scurrying to her feet. “You focus on the one that’s actually a threat.”

With a grunt and a nod, Storm charged back into the fray, snatching her knife out of the dirt as she went before leaping forward and burying the dirk into the beast once more. As she climbed back onto it she stared it dead in its one good eye, so filled with rage, pain and hate that it was almost clouded over.

Burying her knife in its thick skull, she planted one foot in its emptied socket and with one hand on her axe began to hack at its head.

“Overgrown! Ugly! Stinking! Revolting motherfucker!” She yelled, every swing carving deeper and deeper as it bucked and flailed, howling in pain at the woman chopping away at its skull.

And then, with a final revolting crack, her blade sank through the shattered bone. The beast let out one last gurgle, tried to step forward, and fell like a puppet with its strings cut.

“One down.” She said, letting out a whoosh of air as she stumbled off its fading corpse.

“Make that three!” The arcanist called, revealing two piled up Goobues spasming on the floor, vomiting the same evil ooze that had clogged the bigger one’s gullet as her bunny thing stood smugly beside them. “These were young ones, a lot less resistant. Just give me a second to finish them off.”

She raised a hand above her book, a black orb of magic forming at the tip of her fingers, then she flicked her wrist and threw it in the mouth of the Goobbue on the bottom. The creature whined pitifully and died as the entirety of its throat went necrotic instantly.

The bunny thing jumped up to the one on top and imitated its mistress’ move with a ball of wind. The goobbue’s chest inflated violently with an almost comical pop and it slumped, dead and bleeding steadily from the mouth.

“Phew, now, let’s have a moment and see if disaster strikes once more, aye?” Storm said as she crouched down to stow her knife back in her boot.

When nothing else came screaming into the grotto, she sighed and stood once more before sheathing her axe and plucking her helmet from her head to wipe at the sweat on her brow.

**Spectrum**

Mikoto stared at the Roegadyn’s face, at the black warpaint under her eyes and the lilac dreadlocks. At the face that she’d _seen_ right before waking up on the ship to Limsa Lominsa.

“Hear… Feel… Think.” She said lowly, only just loud enough for the sound to carry to the Hellsguard’s ears.

“You say something friend? You’ll have to speak up, I fell asleep in my breakfast and there’s likely some bread stuck in my ears yet.” The Roegadyn said, giving her a wry smile.

“I said,” Mikoto answered, “Hear… Feel… Think. I don’t suppose it’d ring a bell? Because I’m pretty sure it should.”

“Aye, I recognize the words. ‘To all of my children in whom Life flows abundant’. I’d reckon that rings a few bells for you too, doesn’t it?” 

Oh, well that changed things. 

“Tsukuyomi no Mikoto,” she introduced herself, offering a hand, “I wouldn’t suppose you knew an owl in a past life?”

“Giant Storm, and yes, I did. As I live and breathe, is it really you?” Storm said, a smile slowly spreading across her face.

“I could hardly say for sure if I’m the specific owl you’re thinking of without knowing you were, but I doubt coincidences hold much sway here.” She wiggled the fingers of her hand. “Kind of hanging here.” She added with a laugh.

“Right, right, well if it’s any proof to you I’ll gladly recount how my mattress got riddled with shrapnel.” The Hellsguard said, crossing her arms across her chest with a smug grin.

Mikoto threw her head back with a cackle. “You! Well, if there’s someone I didn’t expect to meet in these circumstances.” She pushed herself to the tip of her toes and nuzzled a knuckle against the Roegadyn’s cheek. “We’ll have to take a moment to talk later, but we’re not alone right now.”

She turned toward Y’shtola and bowed at the waist. “My apologies for the bother, Y’shtola, Giant Storm and I were correspondents of sort and I fear we let the surprise have the better of us.”

“Thank you for your assistance, by the way. I doubt I’d have come out as unscathed as I am if you two hadn’t been here.” Storm said, offering a bow in thanks to the Miqo’te woman.

“It was little trouble,” the archon answered, holding up a rusted knife, “I doubt whoever was responsible for this would have bothered to wait for us to leave. Rather I’d think they intended to do away with all three of us to cover for whatever place this Grotto holds in their designs.”

Mikoto nodded. Even had she not known of the attack in advance, it would still have been too fishy not to have been orchestrated. Fishy. She had to bite her lip not to chuckle.

“That’s not the only thing the big fella left us, though.” She observed, pointing at the crystal laying half hidden in the shadows of the cave. “Storm, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“I’ve got it,” she said, stepping briskly over to the glimmering crystal and picking it up.

Pressure burst around Mikoto’s temple, her vision going white. But she hadn’t touched the…

She startled back to consciousness in an empty expanse, with the feeling of three backs against hers. She tried to turn her head or speak, but nothing happened. Her neck didn’t move and no sound came out of her mouth.

Then a mosaic of light spread at her feet.

* * *

She woke up to the feeling of paws poking at her horns and opened her eyes to see her Carbuncle peering down at her.

“Kyuuun~?”

“Hey there, sorry for worrying you.” She muttered. “Hydaelyn doesn’t understand subtlety.”

“Fucking rock.” Storm groaned from her own spot on the ground, the heels of her palms rubbing at her eyes.

Mikoto chuckled as she pulled herself back to her feet. And found herself eye to eye with Y’shtola’s questioning brow.

“Before you ask the question, I am indeed certain my vision was of the Mothercrystal. As for why it happened…” She shrugged helplessly. “I honestly have no idea.”

She _hadn’t_ touched the crystal, there was absolutely no reason for her to have been pulled along.

“I’ve got a few theories,” Storm said as she sat up and rubbed at the lump growing on the back of her head, “none of them very charitable to our dear Mothercrystal.”

Mikoto sent the Roegadyn a sardonic glance before looking down at her carbuncle. “See what I have to deal with?” She asked it, earning a happy squeak in return.

“Well, this has certainly been a day of unexpected revelations.” Y’shtola said with a chuckle. “I must continue my investigation, but in the meantime, you’d do well to show this knife to your patron,” she told Storm, handing it to her by the blade.

“Aye, I’ll do that.” The taller woman said, rising back into a standing position and taking the weapon.

Mikoto bowed her head to the Miqo’te, offering her a smile. “I must thank you for a most delightful morning, Y’shtola, but I fear I shall join my friend to catch up. But I have little doubt that we shall meet again sooner than one might think, and I shall look forward to it.”

“A woman of many talents and secrets, was it?” Y’shtola asked with amusement in her eyes. “I will look forward to it, then. May we meet again in the light of the crystal.”

Mikoto waved as the Scion left.

“Right, well, I’ve a report to go and give, so Mikoto if you’d be so kind as to meet me at the Drowning Wench tonight? Or perhaps the Bismarck if you’re interested in more sophisticated fare.” Storm said, tucking the dagger that had been lodged in the Goobbue into her other boot.

“I’ve got maybe two hundred gil on me, so that’ll have to be the Wench.” Mikoto told her, “See you in the evening?”

“I’ll see you there.” Storm said, grabbing her helmet out of the dirt and setting it back on top of her head before leaving with a wave.

* * *

Mikoto sat by the table with a mug of La Noscean orange juice and her carbuncle in her lap as she wrote.

It was harder than it may sound. In the time she’d been here, she’d been accosted by half a dozen other patrons of varying race and sex looking for some company.

Turned out being the only Au Ra in the city made you something of an exotic treat and sitting by your lonesome was taken as an invitation to flirt by the pirates, though Mikoto would hardly complain. As long as the flirt was respectful, she could enjoy the attention, even flirt back a little after she made it clear she didn’t intend to take anyone in her bed today.

And when the would be suitor was a few mugs too far to remember their manners… Well, they’d stopped trying to come with too much alcohol in their system after her carbuncle had sent a particularly handsy Miqo’te woman flying across the room with a spell.

“Baderon, pour me a mug of your strongest, I’ve had a mess of a day and I intend to get myself absolutely paralytic drunk tonight.” A familiar voice said as the lift gate opened, Storm entering and moving her head around, obviously searching for her.

The Au Ra raised her mug and batted her eyelashes teasingly from her seat. “Looking for someone, marauder?” She called.

“I am indeed,” Storm said as she sat down across from the smaller woman, gratefully accepting the heavy tankard from the waitress that had come over, “I’m looking for someone beautiful to sit and talk with, discuss the wonders of the world and such. Might you be that someone?”

Mikoto giggled, but didn’t stop writing. “That would depend. Do all those come with the promise of a grand adventure and the wildest night of my life? I’ve been promised a lot of those since I sat here, but I’m afraid I’m just looking for a nice bit of talk and the answer to some questions, _today_.” She made a point of looking up and winking at the room with the last word.

There was no telling what tomorrow was made of, after all.

“Tonight, all I’m promising is laughter and the opportunity to see my grousing about Staelwyrn. I finished reporting to the old codger about what went down at the grotto and after that it was ‘go kill mandragoras, go run errands for a botanist’, it was positively wretched I tell you.” Storm said before raising her cup and tilting it back. In three gulps she sat it back down, completely empty.

“Well I can’t say my afternoon was as busy,” Mikoto responded, “after we parted ways, I returned to the Arcanist guild to see if they had something for me to do before getting here, but today’s a slow day. I did get a little training exercise and I met this adorable Miqo’te called K’lyhia, but otherwise not much. So, the thousand point question, my dear Storm. Why a woman? Not exactly something I’d have expected from you.”

“Do you want the long answer or the short answer?” Storm said as she waved down the waitress for a refill.

Mikoto raised an eyebrow and twirled her quill between her fingers, offering the Roegadyn a facetious grin. “They do say the size doesn’t matter, but I do prefer getting them long, so don’t go soft on me. It would be a shame to leave me disappointed, would it not?”

“First of all, you’re horrible,” Storm said, one hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles, “second of all, I decided to be a woman because it seemed like something new. Plus, boobs.”

“Fair enough.” Mikoto agreed, turning her head to offer a dazzling smile to a table of open mouthed sailors. She huffed proudly when all four of them blushed and looked away.

“So, why do you think we’re here?” Storm said, winking at the barmaid replacing her empty mug with a full one.

Mikoto shrugged. “Fate? Destiny? I have no idea. I’ve been taking things as they come for now, making the most out of the situation, but at the end of the day, I’m not sure it really matters. We’re probably never getting an answer, so worrying about it seems sort of pointless, I suppose.” She clicked her tongue and dipped her quill back in the inkwell before resuming her writing.

“That’s a fairly uninspired answer, isn’t it? Never mind that for now though, I’m more interested in what you’re writing. An ode to Y’shtola and her graceful beauty? A song about how we brutalized those Goobbues? Come on, let me have a look.” Storm said, leaning across the table to look.

Mikoto laughed without restraint. “Oh, I can imagine her reaction if I tried that. But I wrote stories, not songs. And this is a letter.” She flipped the page for Storm to see, “Remember the breadful dream? There were two others, there. And we were four in the vision today.”

“Ah, I see. Going to try the rest of the gang, then? Have you any clues where they might be?” Storm asked as she leaned back in her chair.

“I do,” Mikoto answered, “I don’t know who they were, but I know one thing: Bow and spear mean Gridania. And Viera can’t be much more common than Au Ra, so I’m hoping the postmoogle can find them.” All the more so that she hadn’t been aware there _were_ Vieras in Eorzea. Then again, she’d seen a Hrothgar this morning, so maybe it was just another sign not to base herself on the medium.

“Fair enough. The moogles are damn reliable when you can get them to stay still for more than a moment, so I don’t doubt that they’ll find the other two we’re looking for.” Storm said, taking a sip of her drink.

“That was the idea.” Mikoto confirmed before an idea struck her. She took her mug and raised it to eye level. “To strange adventures and good company?”

“I’ll drink to that!” Storm cheered, raising her own mug in a toast, “To strange adventures and good company!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Owl: And here's the first chapter. Big thanks to our friend October, who did us the kindness of proofreading. We're posting this right on the heels of the prologues, so the other two don't have anything to add. Just enjoy!


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